Tag Archives: long term survival with stage IV lung cancer

Ten four. Incoming: year fifteen

Well y’all, I may be limping across the finish but I made it. It’s now been fourteen full years since my world turned upside down. Fourteen years since I learned that in fact you could be forty-five years old, a never smoker, and still get lung cancer.

My general practitioner–the same one who misdiagnosed me with asthma–broke the news. It would be several years more before I would learn that my earlier doctor–who had been traveling to a birding convention on the morning of September 11 and was a passenger in one of the jets that hit the twin towers–had written this in my charts: ‘On the off chance that this young non-smoking woman has a lung neoplasm.’

By the time I received the diagnosis, my tumor was five centimeters in diameter. Fortunately, the brain MRI came back negative for metastases and the full body PET and bone scans also seemed to indicate that the cancer was contained to my lung.

One week later I met with my thoracic surgeon. I put on a pink sweater that morning, consciously trying to look young, healthy and worth saving. Another week would elapse prior to my surgery. I had wanted to pin a note to my johnnie reading ‘Out, out, damn spot’–a cheeky nod to Shakespeare, but I chickened out.

The surgeon had explained that the first thing he would do would be to remove a number of thoracic lymph nodes which would be biopsied immediately. If any of them came back positive for cancer, he would close me right back up.

When I awakened in the ICU, my first question was whether or not it had been a long surgery. All of the tubes running from my body should have made that obvious.

Once I was released to a room, Peter came to visit with his dad. He immediately crawled up in my bed and wrapped himself around my legs and just lay there whimpering. It broke my heart but also reinforced what I already understood–I absolutely had to stay alive.

In 2005 no one could have imagined that fourteen years later I would in fact still be here. Two weeks from today, we will celebrate Peter’s 22nd birthday.

It’s been an incredible journey and it’s not over yet. Here’s sincerrely hoping that a year from now, I’ll be posting a giant fifteen at the top of the page.

xo

The nature of things

In the midst of all the hectic goings-on, I’ve still found time to marvel at the natural world. Frogs, newts and salamanders, who would love to share our pool but alas, the chlorine is not their friend. A fat garden spider whose neck-high web I inadvertently walked into (like a ligature!), inspiring him/her into defensive mode.

One morning, a delicate mushroom suddenly sprouted in a potted plant and which resembled nothing so much as a paper parasol. While on a walk, a dragon fly lying stunned in the road. Once home, I lay it in a bowl on the porch. The next morning the dragon fly was not there; I soon located it clinging to the inside of the screen and looking quite revived. Taken out of doors, it immediately flew up and away.

At first light, I am often awakened by the song of a robin who has roosted on the same branch outside my bedroom for three summers now and who favors an early morning wake-up call (4:30 am). We have several apple trees—presently bursting with fruit and filled with various tribes of song birds gleaning in a ‘mixed species foraging flock‘. The season’s last butterflies crowd those bushes that are yet in bloom and the cadence of the katydids has slowed considerably with the onset of cooler nights.

Back in June, a smallish snapping turtle spent an entire day depositing eggs at the edge of our yard in a decidedly haphazard pattern; we decided it was her first go at motherhood. Several days ago, David spotted a hatchling and now there are several little turtle-shaped slots in the lawn.

The wild grasses have gone to seed; beautiful swaths of yellow green, mauve and champagne colored froth lining the sides of the road. And now that the temperature has dropped into the forties at night, some of the leaves are beginning to turn as well. Goodbye summer, hello autumn.

A gentleman known as stageIVsurvivor

This particular guest post is actually the distillation of a telephone conversation that I had with my friend known by our online community as stageIVsurvivor, but more informally as G. When I became part of the INSPIRE community four and a half years ago, G was already a well established member, and practically a legend.

Diagnosed on November 30th, 1999, G’s lung cancer had metastasized to his brain. Nonetheless, his oncologist was confident that his cancer could be cured and remarkably, after a combination of surgery, chemo and gamma knife, G has been out of treatment and cancer free since November of 2000.

Prior to his diagnosis of lung cancer, G smoked. And he still does.

I will be the first to admit that I have had some trouble with this fact, as it flies in the face of all reason. Forget stigma for a moment; it just seems like a good idea to stop smoking if you have lung cancer. However, I am also adamant that one of the best ways to combat stigma is for smokers and former smokers to stand tall and refuse to be bullied or shamed into believing that they somehow deserve a diagnosis of lung cancer. No one deserves this or any other disease, and I was pleased when G agreed to share his story.

After our conversation, I came away with a much greater understanding of who this complicated individual is. Certainly, as a long term survivor of stage IV lung cancer, he provides incredible inspiration. In our forum, he often injects a dose of humor. Occasionally he can come across as a real curmudgeon, and G and I have had a dust-up or two. However, if you were to ask many of those he has helped behind the scenes, they would describe a generous and caring individual.

I was curious as to why someone who had not been in treatment for 12 years would be drawn to a support group for lung cancer survivors.  “I’m just one of the very, very lucky ones…it is my responsibility to do what I can for other people.” G emphasizes that his continued “participation on Inspire is only to help those still suffering and their families“.

Crediting an amazing medical team for his successful treatment, G is on a personal crusade to educate others about the importance of “proper treatment, proper direction and proper insight“. He abhors complacency, and often urges patients to seek a second opinion.

As for his own unconventional approach to survival, G is blunt. First, about the fact that he initially faced his diagnosis with anything but optimism. “I was angry and had a horrible attitude“. Unfortunately, G also ended up addicted to pain medication, and at one point just wanted to give up. However, he experienced a moment of clarity, realizing that he ‘wasn’t dead yet‘. Even while “lamenting the fact that I wouldn’t be around to raise my sons” G acknowledged that he “wasn’t doing a good job then“. He went into rehab and beat his addiction to the pain meds.

And so why does G still smoke? Certainly, there was a sense of “the horses are already out of the barn“–the damage done. But it would seem that the real reason is that having beaten both drugs and alcohol (G acknowledges that he has an addictive personality), he has found nicotine that much more difficult to kick. He’s giving e-cigarettes a try, and if they don’t do the trick, he may try something like chantix. Of course, given his personal stuggle with addiction, he is leary of any chemical intervention.

At any rate, on November 30th, G will mark his 13th year of surviving stage IV lung cancer. He’s a very lucky man, and he knows it.